


Old Gods

by Kouji757



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Addiction, Bargaining, Betrayal, Growth, Kidnapping, Supernatural Creatures, trade
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-18 06:08:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4694957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kouji757/pseuds/Kouji757
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The old stories of fair folk, of monsters in the darkness and gods that shouldn't be bargained with - many have a kernel of truth to them, and when the creature itself is warning you that your path will end badly, it may be best to listen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Explosions were a particular sort of business that you never wanted to be on the receiving end of. First and foremost was the problem of being blown to bits and losing limbs and seeing parts of yourself coating the nearest solid surfaces, but providing you survived that first initial 'boom' then you had to factor in the physical force of an explosion - the shockwave, if caught in one that was forceful enough, could pick up a man and throw him an impressive distance. 

And while one was flying through the air you had to consider speed and trajectory as well as surroundings when determining where you were going to land or what you were going to collide with, even if that was just a question of how high up you are and how quickly you were going to reach the ground.

With all of these variables in mind the red-clad Spy considered himself fortunate to be spared the additional agony of being propelled into a wall, a fence, or a tree trunk, instead finding himself propelled neatly over the wooden fence to crash through the grasping limbs of the pine trees that surrounded this particular base.

The landing was not an easy one unfortunately; he screamed as his arm bent under him, the elbow popping wetly and sending a fresh wave of pain racing to stab at his brain as he lay in the grass and fallen needles and tried to make sense of all the sensory information fighting for prominence in his mind.

After several minutes to breathe, bleed, and recover his senses the Spy managed to sit up and assess his wounds: his lower legs were badly burned from the rocket's blast, and from his knees up to his waist his pants and the skin beneath them were singed and shredded from the shrapnel of what had been a wooden and metal platform overlooking the entrance to the intelligence room. His left arm was at the very least dislocated at the elbow, though as he gingerly felt around the joint he wondered if he had not fractured the surrounding bone slightly as even the slight pressure from his fingers was enough to send jolts of pain shooting up to his shoulder.

In addition to the problems of his injuries a cursory pat down revealed his Ambassador was gone (dropped in his impromptu flight, most likely) and the Invis Watch was blackened and the screen cracked; a cautious poke at the button resulted in...absolutely nothing - the watch was ruined. He still had his Sapper and his knife at the least, but as he turned to look back toward the base in the distance another issue presented itself.

Being outside of the fence meant he was outside of the range of Respawn. 

Injured as he was, unable to cloak, and lacking in any sort of ranged weapon, he would make a very easy target to pick off and the Spy doubted his enemies would stop to think about where he was before they pulled the trigger if he was spotted while still outside the fence line. If he was killed out here he'd be dead for good...

It was a struggle to push himself to his feet, other aches and pains making themselves known but paling in comparison to the sheer agony that was standing on his injured legs; from here he could still hear the battle going - it would not be safe to return to base until the battle was done for the day...he simply couldn't risk being seen while he was outside the fence.

And that meant getting out of the sight of the enemy Sniper as well, as the Spy belatedly realized that he could clearly see the enemy base's tower from here; if he could see it without issue then so could that Sniper, if he was up there today.

But where else to go...he supposed he could huddle behind a tree and wait, or move out far enough that he could not see any sign of the bases at all.

That...might be the safest option, actually. No one would have reason to search for him out here, and if he moved somewhere he could not possibly be seen...

Hissing in pain with every step the Spy forced himself to move, hurrying the best he could in the opposite direction of the bases and the battle. Soon all he could see were trees and his limbs were shaking with the effort of moving - what little energy he had was draining away but just as he was debating sitting down right where he was and calling it good he heard the tell-tale trickle of water somewhere nearby.

Not far from where he had nearly stopped to rest was a clear, quick-moving stream; there was evidence of recent flooding here with the plants nearest the shore coated in dried mud and somewhat flattened. A driftwood log pushed against a rock outcropping served as a clean enough seat and the Spy dropped down onto it with a pained grunt; at least if he remained near the stream until nightfall he wouldn't go thirsty (and what did he care if he got sick from drinking dirty water - it's not like dying would be a bother once he was safely back into the base).

For some time the Spy simply sat with his head propped in his hands, aching and wishing for time to pass more quickly, finding some comfort in the soft sounds of the water flowing near him...but after a while he began to pick out another sound under that of the stream. It almost sounded like...footsteps, and he felt a jolt of adrenaline rush through him at the thought - was it a wild animal approaching? It had to be...surely there would be no one else, friend OR foe, who would be out here.

And IF it were a wild animal, was it attracted to the scent of his blood? Would it be expecting a meal? The thought was not a pleasant one and the Frenchman wearily reached for the knife in his pocket; what a way to potentially go...mauled by wildlife. So undignified.

Blade in hand he waited, ears straining to pick out the sound of the footsteps over that of the water to pinpoint which direction it was coming from; whatever it was, it was coming up behind him and it was a struggle to lift his legs over the log under him to turn around, leaving him panting and his hand shaking as he turned to face down-

-there was a woman walking down the stream, ankle-deep in the water and seemingly unaware of the Spy's presence.

Or at least he thought it was a woman - they were still too far away for him to make out anything other than the color of their clothing and the fact that whoever that was was carrying a basket on their hip that was full of some plant the same shade of green as their clothing.

He did not move or make a sound, instead watching the figure approach; when they drew close enough for him to make out their face and other defining features he saw that yes, that was a woman. Her hair was black and pulled back tightly, her feet bare, and she wore a short-sleeved shirt and pants that ended at her calves, both in the same shade of spring green.

Who was she and why was she here? To his knowledge all the land for miles around was private property...was she lost? 

If she was it was incredibly unfortunate that she'd stumbled upon him because he certainly couldn't allow her to leave once she'd seen him...

He slipped his knife up his jacket sleeve just as she raised her head enough to spot him.

A look of surprise crossed her features, her mouth falling open into a little 'O' shape as she stopped where she was and simply stared.

"...uh. You-"

Whatever shock had frozen her in place was quickly gone as she began to slosh toward him in a sloppy jog. "-a couple questions for you there, sir - who are you, why are you on my land, and why do you look like you fell out of a meat grinder?"

Well now...the fact that she hadn't gone running in the opposite direction was both intriguing as well as troublesome; he remained silent, eyeing her warily. 

Her basket was full of some sort of straight, baton-like plant, tied together in neat little bundles, some of them spilling out as she dropped the basket to the ground a few feet from him and pausing there. "Can you speak?"

"You are not afraid of an injured man alone in the forest?" he finally asked, voice low.

Her brows furrowed at that. "...should I be? Did you get washed downstream from somewhere? What the heck happened to you?"

"That is not your concern."

"I'm making it my concern, you look like you're ready to keel over."

'Do not come closer, just walk away and you'll walk away alive...'

But she came closer despite his silent mental warning and he tensed as she bent to look at his bloodied and dripping legs. He had the upper hand here, the perfect angle-

The blade slid free of his sleeve and landed in his palm, secure and familiar, and the metal flashed in the sunlight as he lunged forward off the log and struck out at her; the knife unerringly found the jugular and sliced deep, the Spy dropping to his knees in the mud after the attack, his eyes on the woman and-

She had jerked back at his attack and pressed a hand to her neck, looking confused...but when she pulled her hand away with a muttered 'ow' there was no panic, no spurt of crimson - there was a thin red line where his blade had cut through her skin and that was the extent of it.

"Do you always greet strangers with a knife to the neck, or are you just trying to make me feel special?"

His reply was his jaw slowly dropping open. How in the world...

She rubbed delicate fingers against the little red line, muttering about how that spot would itch for days now, and all he could do was stare in silence.

Finally her head turned, her gaze finding his - her eyes were such a pale brown they almost looked yellow. "All right, I've had better introductions than that, but I'm willing to chalk it up to impaired cognition due to blood loss. If you think you can put that butter knife away long enough to let me help you..."

After a pause in which he couldn't bring himself to move she reached over to tug the knife from his fingers and fumble around with it until she managed to close it; his eyes tracked her hand as she leaned over to drop his blade into her basket of plant bundles, then she was standing and slipping hands under his armpits to pull him to his feet.

And for the life of him he couldn't bring himself to do more than stare at this woman who should, by all rights, be bleeding out at his feet.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

She'd carried him away from his log, back upstream the way she'd come. As they moved the land around them changed; the shore began to rise up on either side of them until they were wading through knee-deep water with steep cliffs to either side.

As they'd walked Spy had considered his options.

He was still baffled over how she _simply didn't bleed_ despite him having clearly struck the jugular - could he knock her over and drown her? He had to admit to himself that his strength was fading fast and he was growing cold besides - maybe he wouldn't have made it back to base after all, and that thought was a frightening one. He had believed himself beyond a fear of death but maybe his reliance on Respawn had made him too reckless, caused him to forget that death WAS an issue when he was not safely within the boundary of his base.

"You should not be here."

"I could say the same thing," came her reply. "You were pretty far from your little battlefield for someone as banged up as you are."

He narrowed his eyes. "And just what do you know of my business?"

"I know when you and those other men arrive - I might not know what you're doing in that fenced-in area but you guys make one hell of a racket when you're there."

"Even such passing knowledge could get you killed, not to mention your trespassing."

She snorted loudly. "Oh please, I think we've established that you can't hope to kill me."

"I...must have missed my strike."

Another snort. "Uh, no, you hit me, it's just no mortal hand can actually kill me, so..."

Mortal hand...? And just what was this woman?

She glanced at him and grinned; Spy felt a chill, a touch of unease, crawl up his spine.

"Let's just get you home so you don't die on me, then we can negotiate for a trade of information hmm?"

\----------------------------------------------------

She'd taken him to a cave set into the cliffside; the cavern was a round room with a deep pool of water near the far wall, and it was well-lit with little lanterns hanging from the walls that cast a yellow-orange glow on everything. There was a bedroll laying on a mattress of reeds and pine needles, and a table made of weathered wooden planks that had a battered metal footlocker stored under it. On top of the table was an assortment of cutlery pieces, a mortar and pestle, some glass tumblers, and a small pile of...well, he wasn't sure what those were - they were flat discs that had an iridescent sheen to them.

He was gently lowered to the bedroll and she'd doctored his legs with gauze she'd pulled from the footlocker along with a dark purple, pungent-smelling fluid she'd poured from a dingy bottle. Whatever it was stank of herbs but numbed the pain from the burns and cuts and once finished she'd returned everything to the footlocker and then had come over to sit by him, propping an elbow up on her knee and resting her chin in her hand to study him.

"Do you have a name?"

"...I cannot share it with you."

She shrugged. "Fair enough, I can't tell you my true name either. I've been going by Melinda these days. Why were you all banged up and so far from home?"

As she spoke he was studying her in turn; her eyes looked golden in this light, her lips were very thin and her nose flat, but there was something...off...and it took him a few moments to realize that she had no eyebrows. His gaze moved down to note the slender neck, the visible collarbones, and then his attention fell on her arms - they were completely hairless, and at that sight Spy felt that sense of unease come rushing back. 

_She doesn't bleed..._

"What are you?" he whispered, missing his Ambassador now more than ever.

"That," she said slowly, shaking a finger at him, "is a bit of a loaded question, and not one I think you want the answer for."

"I am fairly certain I do," he said after a pause, the unease settling into a hard knot in the pit of his stomach.

She regarded him for a moment, silent; her tongue trailed out to run along her bottom lip before she lightly bit it. "I think I can safely confirm that I'm not human. I don't think you want to know more than that, it tends to end badly for humans who do."

"You are not human."

She shook her head. "Nope, and a human can't hope to kill me...that's why your little knife didn't do much more than tickle." Turning her head she tapped at the red mark on her neck; it was barely visible in the light, but it was there and still not bleeding.

"Why assist me? Especially after I attacked you with the intent to kill."

With a shrug she reached up to the back of her head and her hair fell free from the ponytail it had been held in; it suddenly occurred to Spy that that may well be the only hair on her body as he again looked at her hairless arms.

"I have my reasons, but know that there is a limit to what I'm willing to do for free."

"I am not certain I know what you mean...or even understand what I am dealing with here."

"Well..." she drawled. "I could easily show you, but it has a price...and I really should warn you that it never ends well for a human in that circumstance."

He wrinkled his nose. "You intend to kill me."

"Of course not, but I know humans rather well. If you're the sort of person I'm guessing you area, you're not going to meet a happy ending if I answer your questions."

"Then why help me?"

"You already asked me that and, as I said, I have my reasons. If you want something more specific than that you'll have to offer something in trade."

Spy was silent for a long moment, thinking; he had heard many fairy tales in his childhood, stories of mystical beings who played with mortal men. All of them had had the same moral or theme, in that it was folly to try and bargain with supernatural beings - they could be outsmarted if you were clever enough, but if you weren't...

She was smirking at him as the silence stretched on. "Reliving your childhood, are we?"

The look he gave her was sharp and accusatory, and she held up her hands in a conciliatory gesture. "I can't read minds if that's what you're about to ask me, it's just I've seen that look before - I told you, I know humans. You have a lot of stories about dealing with my kind, and they're not all untrue you know. Lots of stories that people think were just made up to scare kids actually have some truth to them."

"What do you want with me?"

"That depends on what _you_ want, and what you're willing to trade for it."

"...I want to know what you are."

A smile inched across her face. "Then, what do you offer in payment for that knowledge?"

\-----------------------------------------------------------

He was grateful that the moon was full as he made his way through the trees back to the fence line that marked the boundary of the base; it took him about an hour to find a gap large enough to squeeze through and then he was hurrying through the halls of the base, forgoing the Med Bay to rush to his own room.

Once inside he slammed the door closed and locked it behind him, his body feeling like it was made of lead as he went over the events of the day in a bit of a haze.

That purple fluid had closed the cuts on his legs and sealed up the burns and while his elbow was still dislocated (or worse) he couldn't bring himself to go have it tended to, not right now.

If it weren't for the gauze on his legs, the sling that supported his injured arm, and the cut in the bend of his good arm where Melinda had taken a vial of his blood, the Spy may have been able to convince himself that nothing out of the ordinary had happened that day.

But she'd taken the blood he'd offered, and he'd gotten his answer...and he still wasn't certain that this hadn't all been a bad dream.


	2. Chapter 2

_I was born in a far off land and carried in the stories, hearts, and memories of a long-forgotten people. When they died off, others came - there were always just enough speaking my name to keep me alive. I am a shade of my former self...but I persist._

\------------------------

"What are you, then?"

Melinda was kneeling between the bedroll and her basket full of plant matter, carefully untangling twine from the bundles of what looked like reeds; she turned to regard him briefly before going back to what she was doing.

"I thought I already answered that."

The Red Spy smiled thinly. "In a way yes...are you not willing to elaborate on what I have already paid for?"

She snorted loudly and kept her back to him. "I get the feeling you think you're a lot more clever than you actually are, and that's a serious disadvantage when dealing with someone like me."

He shrugged. "A simple yes or no will suffice."

The Frenchman watched as she spread a bundle of the reed plants (if that was what they truly were) over the foot of her bedroll before she stood and slowly turned toward him, crossing her arms and looking him up and down.

"Look, I'm only going to warn you one more time: keep traveling down this path and it's not going to end well with you. I've been around you humans long enough to know when someone doesn't have what it takes to survive dealing with me."

"And what makes you say that? You have only just met me...personally I find it a bit insulting that you've judged me so quickly."

She held up a finger. "All right then, first: you're a human, a mortal. Mortals tend to be selfish, needy little children - on the surface that's not so bad, all kids are like that before they grow up and learn...but a lot of humans never grow out of that selfish streak, or it turns into something even worse."

He raised an eyebrow at that. "...such as?"

"Addiction, obsession, vanity, cruelty, take your pick."

"And what, pray tell, do you think I am?"

Melinda was silent a moment and he could see her working her tongue along the inside of her bottom lip as she studied him. "...selfish, to some degree. Glory-seeking. A vain streak. Addictive personality. Trust me when I say you won't survive this." Now it was his turn to snort derisively and she shrugged. "I don't doubt you're an intelligent man, but intelligence and common sense never seem to go hand in hand with your kind."

"it sounds less that you are concerned for me and more that you simply want me to leave."

She rolled her eyes as he smirked. "If I wanted you gone you wouldn't have found me a second time."

"Ah, but it was you who found me the first time."

This time she smirked. "Feel free to keep thinking that...at any rate, if you're so set on this path I don't mind elaborating on questions I've already answered, providing your follow up questions are related enough to them."

Only now did he finally move further into the cave, heart pounding but outwardly appearing calm. Her story the previous evening...it had to be fiction, yes? Gods did not walk the earth, if they even existed. If he could get further information out of her perhaps he could learn what folktale she was pretending to embody and sate his curiosity...

"So, your question is 'what am I?' then?" He nodded and she sniffed and rubbed her lips down the back of her arm. "Well, I mean - interesting question, isn't it? I already told you what I am in a general sense, what else is there to tell?"

"I find I am not exactly inclined to believe the answer I received."

"That's your problem, not mine - once a bargain is made you can't lie or try to back out of your agreement. I answered you truthfully."

"What do you do then? For mortal men. What is your godly domain?"

Her eyelids drooped at that, a sly smile crossing her features as she drew herself up to her full height. "Ah, that...are you sure you want to know?"

"I would not be asking otherwise."

"...mine is the world of dreams and rebirth."

"And that entails?"

"Exactly as it sounds like, and a bit more...but that information will not come free."

He frowned and dug inside his jacket for his cigarette case. "I see...more blood, then? What do you require blood for anyhow?"

She laughed (it was somewhat low and grating) as she moved toward her table and the footlocker beneath it. "Blood given even in trade for something is still a form of sacrifice and sacrifice is what keeps me going." Out of the footlocker she pulled a familiar little silver knife, its blade slender and hooked at the tip, and a bottle that also looked familiar.

Spy found himself eyeing that bottle when she stood and walked for him; he had given her enough blood previously to have filled it halfway, and it was empty now...

"What did you do with the blood I so graciously offered?"

She held out the knife and bottle silently and after some hesitation he took them.

"What do you think I did with it?"

He wrinkled his nose in disgust as multiple ideas came to mind...and then that feeling of unease came back. 

She seemed to notice or sense it. "Don't worry, it won't take much for what you're asking."

Slowly he stripped his jacket off and carefully laid it across her table then pressed the hooked tip of the blade into the crook of his arm, wincing slightly as it sank into his skin easily and immediately drew blood. Bare moments passed; there hardly seemed time for more than a few drops to trickle into the bottle he held under the puncture before she was taking the knife and bottle away. His initial suspicion proved to be correct when she licked the blood from the knife and off the rim of the bottle.

"All right, so...I do your typical god-like things: blessings, curses, favors. Those sorts of things I'm willing to do for those who don't actively evoke or worship me. Those that DO decide to sing my praises and bend knee at my altar get a few more perks - prophecy, for example."

With two of his fingers pinching his cut shut he tried not to frown as he watched her pour those meager drops of blood from the bottle onto her tongue. He was no closer to figuring out what she was pretending at than he had been yesterday, but strangely enough he found himself intrigued...if she were telling the truth...

"Might I ask you to prove it?"

"Prove what?"

"That you are a being of power."

She offered him another sly smile, tongue now playing around the tip of the bottle. "Well...I guess I could, for a price. What are you wanting?"

\----------------------------------------

It was such a small thing, this little flattened disc she'd offered; she'd plucked it from the pile on the table and carefully cleaned it with a horsetail plant (she'd finally identified the plants for him) before handing it to him and taking the filled bottle from him in return.

"Take this and keep it on your person. You want victory, glory? So long as you carry this, you'll have it...and if you lose it, whoever finds it will benefit from it, understand?"

Whatever this thing was felt somewhat waxy and its black coloring had an iridescent sheen to it that came from its depths, as though it were covered in a clear protective coat of some sort. It was smooth and felt warm to the touch even after it had been sitting on the small table beside his bed overnight. It was lighter than expected, fit comfortably in the palm of his hand, and the following morning he had slipped it into a pocket and had all but forgotten about the little talisman until...

It was the little things that were noticeable. The Blu's Demoman had come around a corner unexpectedly and had seen the Spy right as his cloak rendered him invisible; rather than frantically search the area the Demoman had immediately turned around and fled. A bit later the Spy had no issue in dispatching the Blu's Medic; ordinarily that one was cautious, paranoid even, and jumped at every sound and twitched at every shadow...but Spy had no trouble walking up behind him and plunging his blade into his back. And the Heavy that was with him did not immediately turn around and send certain death in the Spy's general direction in an attempt to flush him out; the giant man had simply silenced his gun and pressed his back to a wall, looking and waiting. Spy took that surprisingly non-violent reaction as the perfect chance to silently slip away, wondering at why the Blu team seemed unable to properly search for him...until he thought of the talisman in his pocket.

Maybe...there was some truth to Melinda's power after all. Five days, five battles later, and he hadn't been so much as scratched.

...what else could she do, then?

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

"And here I thought you'd come to your senses."

She was lounging on her bedroll, one arm lazily resting across her forehead, when he silently entered the cavern again; he rubbed a thumb against the talisman she'd given him, watching the colors swirl in the red-orange light of the lanterns that lit the space.

"I was testing if there was any truth in what you promised. I find myself intrigued."

"And a believer?"

He chuckled at her mocking tone. "I would not go that far just yet, but you have my interest. What else are you capable of?"

She sucked in a long, hissing breath as she slowly sat up and stretched. "Mmm...what did you have in mind, little seeker?"

Hmm, what DID he want? 

He thought of how the Blu team seemed unwilling or unable to search for his cloaked form...what if he did not need to cloak at all?

"Could you bless me, or perhaps curse my enemies, to be unable to see me until it is far too late for them?"

She chuckled a bit. "Victory and glory again, then. Well, I could certainly do that..."

"...for a price," he finished, and she nodded with a wide smile.

"You're learning. Now, explain to me exactly what you want."

"I want them blind to my presence."

"Define 'them' for me, if you would."

Spy glanced down at the talisman in his palm with a bit of a smirk. "In that base we battle daily, my team against those wearing blue. In this case, I want for those who wear the Blu colors to be unable to spot me."

He watched as she lightly mouthed a few things, and even counted on her fingers, before rubbing her chin. "And what will you give me in return?"

"Blood?" he said, and she shook her head.

"For such a request I would have to bleed you dry. If you'd rather not have all nine of them cursed at one time..."

After a moment of consideration he nodded. "...their Soldier, then. It was he who blasted me over the fence in the first place. I have no desire to repeat such a journey."

With a nod she retrieved the blade and bottle and handed them to him, then silently held out a hand; after a pause he understood and dropped the talisman into her hand. As he cut and bled he watched as she scraped her teeth over both sides of the little disc, then went to polish it with another horsetail plant until he'd corked the bottle and offered the objects back.

"All right, here - again, do not let anyone touch or take it from you or you won't get its benefits."

"It will work?"

"It worked the first time, didn't it?" she asked dryly, sticking the blade into her mouth and sucking the blood off.

\------------------------------------------------------

The next battle found Spy...slightly unwilling to test the supposedly new powers of his magical good luck charm. The Blu Soldier was rarely off on his own and Spy did not want to risk a group of Blu seeing him and somehow...being too much for the talisman to deal with? Maybe he should have asked for clarification on how it truly worked.

Regardless, it was not until the very end of the day, prior to the usual cease fire that followed a day's worth of fighting, that Spy managed to catch the Blu Soldier both alone and unaware.

Sucking in a breath, Spy let his cloak drop away as he stalked directly for the man. The Soldier seemed surprised to see the other walking so boldly toward him, or so Spy thought; only moments after seeing the Frenchman the Soldier suddenly spasmed and straightened, one hand reaching up to tear his helmet off his head and let it drop to the ground beside his feet.

Immediately the Soldier began screaming and swearing and it took the Spy a moment or two to make out what he was screeching about but once he'd mentally translated the man's words he found himself standing there and drinking them in as they turned from anger to sheer panic; the Soldier let his rocket launcher swing to his back as he pulled his shotgun free and began to fire wildly.

The Soldier was blinded - not just to Spy but apparently blind entirely.

Spy's laughter echoed as, after several minutes of watching the panicked man flounder around, he shot him once in the head with his Ambassador; when the man's body disappeared as Respawn took him, Spy removed the talisman from his pocket and rubbed his thumb against it. Maybe the next time he encountered that Soldier he should thank him for the impromptu ride over the fence after all...it was proving to be quite beneficial.

\----------------------------------------------------

"Back so soon?"

Spy opened his mouth to reply then paused; Melinda seemed...healthier, with the flesh around her collarbone appearing a bit fuller, her face a bit rounder. It would seem the blood - HIS blood - was doing her some good...he was not sure how to feel about that, but he carefully composed his expression to one of polite neutrality.

"Of course - there are still eight more men to curse."

She had been kneeling by the pool of water and at his words stood and turned, hands on her hips (Spy had the strange impression of a mother about to scold a child).

"And you plan on returning eight nights in a row to get what you want?"

"If that is what it takes."

"There's an easier way to get it done, but if you take the chance then there's not going to be any turning back...you'll travel this path to its inevitable end."

The easiest path was rarely the best one to take, even if you weren't dealing with some sort of ancient deity, and yet...

"I am listening."

She smiled. "A bargain for a bargain, this one - this time it's MY turn to make the offer."

"Go on."

Her feet were wet and left visible footprints behind as she padded toward him, stopping close enough to touch him if she wanted. "If you want it done in one fell swoop I want to observe your dreams, but to do that you'll be witness to my true form...and to do THAT, to see my true identity, I want yours."

"My...identity?"

She gestured to his balaclava. "Your face and your name, in return for my name and my form."

He narrowed his eyes. "...that is all you want for the curses?"

"Ha, no. That is what you must first give up if you want access to cursing your enemies in one go. If you're not one for instant gratification you can continue giving your little pittance of blood each night until you've gotten all the curses your selfish little heart desires," she chuckled, but her eyes sparkled in the light as she peered at him. "But, if you want what you want a bit quicker than that..."

Eight more nights, or get it all done in one night... "My face and name are all you require?"

"Mmhmm, that's it."

He was silent for a moment, debating, and then- "...I accept your terms."

She nodded, still smiling, and stood there within arm's reach as he loosened his tie and slipped his fingers under the edges of his mask and slipped it up and over his head; Melinda nodded in silent approval, reaching up to grasp his chin with slender, gentle fingers, and turn his head this way and that to get a good look at him.

"And your name?"

"James," he said, then his eyes went wide.

James was NOT the name he had been about to offer, not in the slightest. In his mind, and on the tip of his tongue, had been the name Lucas - it was an alias he had used for almost a decade in the past and had been the name he had chosen to offer...but what instead came out of his mouth was indeed his actual birth name-

Her smile took on a more sinister look as she stood there, hand on his chin and staring at him. "You were about to lie to me," she chanted in a sing-song, high-pitched tone, waggling a finger at him. "Remember - once you make a deal you can't lie or attempt to break it. That rule holds true to me as well...now, I suggest you stand over there, behind the table, so you'll be out of the way."

Swallowing hard, still reeling over the fact he'd just spilled the one secret of his life he'd never intended to tell anyone, he moved to where she'd indicated (just behind her bedroll near the wall) and watched as Melinda ambled back toward the pool of water.

As she moved her form shifted; her legs grew longer as did her torso, her arms became thinner and her hair seemed to meld in with the shirt on her back, but then all at once the full force of the change hit and Spy found himself staring in part horror, part morbid fascination as Melinda took her true form.

Scaled coils thrashed through and then settled into the water though a great length of her remained on the dry floor of the cavern; the coils were wide, as wide as a man, and were covered in black scales with wild green patterning the same shade as the clothing she'd been wearing. As he took in her coloration he belatedly realized that the talisman he carried must be one of her scales, then his gaze moved up the massive amount of tail and found where her hips fused with her lower half.

Her belly was a paler shade of green that faded to a cream as it crept up her chest and neck; the black and green clung to her back and shoulders and swept down her arms to her elbows before fading to the same cream that colored her stomach.

Melinda's face was narrow, snake-like but still recognizable, and her eyes glowed with an inner golden glow that had nothing to do with the lantern's lighting.

She brought a loop of her tail forward, resting it on top of yet more of herself, then leaned down and rested her elbows on it before placing her head into her hands. A moment later her lips parted and Spy heard...not so much a word as an emotion, or some sort of implied ideal, that echoed through his mind and faded just as quickly.

"There. You have my name and you've seen my true form. Are you ready to make your request?"

"Mon Dieu," was all he could whisper.

Her grin went wide - her _mouth_ was impossibly wide - and she shook her head. "Not yet I'm not."


	3. Chapter 3

The Spy was acutely aware of Melinda's tail sliding smoothly along behind him to partially block off the cavern's one exit; every instinct in him was telling him to run, to fade away and _get away_ as fast as his legs could carry him.

And yet...

There was a part of him marveling at the sight before him - Melinda truly WAS what she claimed to be. What human alive could claim to have met a god?

Better yet, what human could claim to be blessed by one?

As his gaze roamed over her (and there was just...so much of her, all looped over and around herself to the point he couldn't be certain just how long she was) she silently watched and smiled, a smug and contented look on her face; finally he lifted his face to look up at her again.

"...what do you want from me, to curse my enemies?"

Melinda rose up and all the coils shifted as she lowered herself down to "stand" on the same level as he; that knot of unease in his stomach loosened slightly as it occurred to him that maybe she wasn't trying to trap him in the cavern with her but instead was trying to avoid crushing him as he took note of how she kept herself well away from him as she shifted herself about.

"I want your dreams."

His brow furrowed as he regarded her in silence for a moment, the statement enough to drag his attention away from all the moving scale. "...my...dreams."

She nodded. "Far more sustaining than blood and more agreeable, if I'm being honest."

"I am afraid I do not follow."

He watched as she brought a loop of herself forward and arranged herself to appear as though she were sitting on it; a faint scuffling behind him turning around to find that a similar arrangement of coils had been moved into place behind him and he wondered which would be worse: refusing the offer or giving an unintended insult by using her like a piece of common furniture. After a moment it was clear that she was offering him a place to sit and he hesitantly lowered himself onto her tail; when his hand strayed down to lightly rest on the scale beneath him he suddenly understood why the talisman always felt warm as Melinda was far warmer to the touch than he'd expect a serpent to feel, even through his glove. Amazing...

"I already said I'm just a shade of what I used to be, right?"

He nodded and tried to keep his fingers from tracing along the scales beneath him in an effort to give his mind something to focus on rather than the still-astounding fact that he was seated on the tail of an ancient serpent deity.

"Well, picture this - you have a home, right? It's comfortable, it's familiar, it's _yours_. Now picture yourself dropped into the middle of your home in total darkness - you know where everything ought to be but you've got nothing to anchor you in that space or orient you. You reach out and your fingers touch things but in the dark you can't tell what you're holding. That's sort of what it's like for me right now...an entire realm of dreams, that space that exists between life and death, but I can't do anything with it because I'm too weakened."

"You looked...healthier, when I arrived earlier."

She nodded. "Blood sacrifice helps a bit but it's not enough."

He suddenly made a face. "Human sacrifice?"

Her expression mirrored his then. "Oh geez no, don't even get me started on that. Before you ask - YES I've eaten people, NO I don't care for it, and I will take literally any other kind of sacrifice or offering before I take a human sacrifice."

Spy could not help but chuckle a bit at her disgust over the idea. "...it never did seem self-sustaining to have ones followers sacrificing themselves."

"Don't get me wrong, there were gods that demanded that sort of thing and even liked it, but I'm not that kind of god...mortals wreck havoc on the digestive track and-" she paused, eyeing him up and down, "-for reference, it'd take me a good four months or more to digest a man of your size."

"I see," Spy murmured, his gaze dropping down to regard the tail under him and shuddering a bit as he pictured himself sliding down its length from the inside...

Melinda rubbed her face - it was a human gesture that seemed very out of place on that inhuman form - and sighed loudly. "The last time I was desperate, nearly ready to die and fade away entirely. The very first time it was sort of like having to smile and look pleased when your kid brings you something they want to show off even when that something happens to be a pile of gilded shit - I choked the woman down and was in gastro-misery for a while, and I guess since I didn't reject it they thought it was something I was into. Never really had the heart to tell them otherwise...I only do it if I absolutely have to now." She crossed an arm over her chest and propped her other elbow on it, resting her chin in her hand. "Trust me when I say I won't be eating you unless I have to and even then I'd hate every moment of it."

"That is reassuring to hear, in a bizarre sort of way, but if you do not care for it then how could it sustain you?"

"The rules that govern my existence are numerous, most of them are contradictory, and I kind of have to roll with the punches here if I don't want to die."

She went silent then and so did he, working through what she'd shared and trying to decide how he felt about it; it was still mind-numbing to contemplate the fact that he was sitting in the presence of an actual god, and one that had blessed him and was still willing to do so even though he did not worship or follow her - how WOULD someone worship or follow Melinda anyway? When she was at the peak of her power, what had the world been like?

"What are you willing to tell me, without forcing me to pay for it?"

She smiled, staring down at the floor. "...let me make one thing clear here, for a moment: I'm demanding things in return because I need to, in terms of survival. I would be much more willing to do the whole 'loving, nurturing, wise and guiding' god thing that other religions have going on if I weren't on the verge of going extinct." After a pause her golden eyes flicked up to meet his. "To share my power I need something in return to fuel it, understand? Nothing comes free in this world and you'd have to do something for my assistance anyway, it's I just don't have the vast amounts of worshipers that I had in my heyday to make up for the little favors I did here and there - one person receiving a blessing is easy to swing when you aren't scraping for sustenance and struggling to cling to existence. The more you ask for, the more of my power is used...see where I'm going with this?"

Spy nodded slowly in response; he supposed a god without followers wouldn't have much reason for existence anyway, though now he found himself wondering what Melinda had done to keep herself alive this long. 

And he also wondered at what ancient people had birthed her into existence; he was far from an expert in the subject but he had scattered memories of old Greek and Roman gods, Sumerian and Norse legends, stories of Aztec and Mayan origin, some knowledge of European folktales and even knew a few Native American creation myths...and yet nothing he could think of seemed to fit Melinda, or at the very least she didn't seem to have come from any of those.

A long-forgotten people...perhaps so long forgotten that they existed before a method of recording their history had existed.

"You want my dreams," he said, pushing his musings away to again focus on what he was here for. "What does that mean?"

"In return for cursing the rest of them you'll come here and sleep where I can observe - whatever you dream, for eight nights, I'll keep."

He raised an eyebrow. "...keep?"

"Keep. Normally I'd just watch but, well...fading away, and whatnot. Think of it as sticking a battery into something - it'll keep me going for longer than just blood will."

"What do you do with them?"

She spread her hands with a shrug. "It's sort of hard to explain to a mortal - there's not really words for it, you know? The battery analogy is about as close as I've gotten over the years."

"All I must do is sleep near you and you'll...take what I dream for your own?"

"More or less. Eight nights, eight dreams, eight men cursed."

"...I agree to your terms."

Her smile was sad as she regarded him. "Not even going to think it over, then?"

"I see no harm in it, unless you are implying you intend to harm me." He paused, then narrowed his eyes. "You will not kill me in my sleep?"

"Of course not," she sighed. "But you'll wind up dead sooner or later, trust me."

He snorted. "In my line of work I regularly wind up dead."

"Oh yes, I'm aware of those fake 'deaths' you encounter. I'm meaning dead-dead, dead and gone, permanent dead. I'm indirectly contributing to that end - it'll be your doing, but I'm handing you the nails for the coffin lid, so to speak."

"Then why not refuse me?"

Again she sighed and Spy felt the coil beneath him ripple as the muscles moved; he stood and she slid herself neatly out from under him, then slowly shrank back to her human form. The cavern felt impossibly huge now that she wasn't filling it and it seemed to take her forever to walk over to stand before him, reaching up to smooth the lapels of his jacket.

"As selfish as it sounds I've got myself to worry about first," she said quietly. "I'd rather you not die, but I have to take what I can get so _I_ don't die. Understand? Warning you repeatedly puts my own existence at risk but I can't help but do that because I can see where this is going and I actually pity you."

Spy wrinkled his nose - pity was not something he needed from anyone, friend or foe. "Am I destined to die here then?"

"Time isn't linear, everyone has an absolute mess of threads that you mortals would call 'fate' that lead to infinite numbers of paths that lead to ends. And I won't tell you more than that unless you are willing to give something in exchange. I've already shared with you way more than I normally would."

After a pause to let that sink in Spy snorted and glanced around the cavern. "If I am destined to die then I should think doing what I can to prolong my life would be the correct path to take." If he was going to sleep here tonight...the bedroll did not look especially comfortable and admittedly the idea of someone watching him sleep had never sat well with him, especially considering that it would be a god watching this time - the thought was anxiety-inducing and he questioned if he would be capable of sleep at all.

Rolling her eyes Melinda turned, stalking off toward the pool of water. "Let me just point out that I already gave you a bullet-proof vest. Go back to your little base and actually think about what you're agreeing to."

She squatted down by the water's edge with a huff and Spy felt a touch of annoyance; he had already agreed, she'd said he wouldn't be harmed by it, and now she was throwing him out after confirming he was going to die here but without saying when or how...safeguarding himself from the Blu team was more important than ever now, knowing that.

For a moment Spy debated pressing the issue, not wanting to travel back to base only to have to make it through a day's battle and then come back that night...but he'd clearly been dismissed and the thought of angering a god who could physically do him harm was not pleasant to consider, never mind that he didn't want to anger the one being with the ability to protect him. With a growl he turned and stomped from the cavern, taking out the talisman on his walk back to base and rubbing his thumb over it, taking small comfort in the warmth it radiated and in the knowledge that it protected him from harm.

And yet, Melinda's words echoed through his mind: he was going to die...and if his death was certain then this little talisman was not enough to protect him after all.


	4. Chapter 4

"May I ask an innocent question?"

"Phrasing it like that sort of implies you're wanting a freebie, but go ahead."

Spy smirked a bit at that and carefully leaned against the table, fully expecting to see her pull that bottle and knife out of the footlocker. "Why horsetail plants?"

Judging by the look on her face she hadn't expected his question to be that bland; after a moment she stood from where she'd been sitting near the pool of water and slowly ambled toward the bedroll where a bundle of the plants in question rested. They were no longer straight like reeds; fibers had peeled away from the shaft and were sticking out from the plant at each segment, giving the plant a fluffy look that brought to mind the tail of an exceptionally stressed cat.

She plucked one from the pile and held it up, running it between her fingers. "I guess I can let you have this one for free: the people who birthed me into existence, when they saw my...I guess you would call it a war form, something meant to fight in - when they saw what I looked like they associated the plant with me. I can show you what I mean later, if you plan on going through with giving me your dreams."

He wrinkled his nose. "I have already agreed to it."

"Did you think it over?"

"I refuse to die here."

She sighed. "All right then, no more warnings - whatever happens, happens. Stay over there by the table."

He did as instructed and watched her make her way back toward the pool, her form changing and once again filling the cavern (with her tail carefully curling well away from him but still moving to surround him...he did not find it so unnerving anymore, at the least).

"All right," she said into the pause that followed, curling and moving and adjusting until she was comfortably settled and "sitting" on her own coils. "Just don't touch me."

Spy opened his mouth to respond when his attention was drawn to a rippling across Melinda's form that began near her waist and extended down to the very tip of her tail, accompanied by a multitude of clicks reminiscent of billiard balls clacking together; her scales shuddered and moved aside as thousands of sharp-looking spines slid out from between them, the same shade of green as her scale patterning.

He supposed to a very, very early human that the green spines would have looked like the horsetail plant...Melinda did bear a very distant resemblance to it with the spines out.

"Poisonous, I presume," he said after a moment, eyeing the nearest spines.

She nodded and her form shuddered again as the spikes pulled back beneath her scale. "Not always deadly, but yeah, poisoned."

"Not always..." Spy repeated slowly, a small frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Am I to assume such poison was used in rituals of old?"

"That's one use. There's other uses for it too, but..." and she shrugged, the words trailing off as she smiled.

"A price to pay."

She nodded, then gestured for him to approach. "Let's get started, I guess. Unless you have someone specific in mind for this next curse it'll simply attach itself to the first enemy to lay eyes on you."

Spy took a few steps forward, reaching up to unbutton his jacket and loosen his tie. Where exactly was she expecting him to sleep...? Furthermore - "-and if the Soldier you have already cursed sees me first?"

She snorted. "Oh please, have some trust in me - I'm not out to cheat you."

"Merely being certain," he said smoothly, slipping his jacket off and folding it over an arm. "You have, after all, been reminding me that I'm apparently not clever enough to deal with you."

Melinda blinked and smiled serenely at him. "You're not...but in a way I guess that's not your fault. Come here."

She patted the coil directly in front of her and, very carefully, the Spy stepped up onto it; with a gentle hand on his shoulder she directed him to sit within the loop it formed and he leaned back against it trying to ignore that part of his brain that was screaming at him over willingly placing himself within a snake's grasp.

"Sweet dreams, little seeker."

It was...very...very warm, sitting here. In no time at all his head was tipping back to rest against the scale behind him; Melinda carefully arranged herself to stretch out along her own length on her belly with her arms folded beneath her chin and her gaze fixated on the sleeping human in her coils.

\----------------------------------------------

Waking was odd.

It had not taken any time at all to fall asleep and he woke just as quickly, experiencing the odd feeling that he had only blinked; Melinda did not appear to have moved but he had - he was now curled into a ball on his side, snug against the coils curled around him and with his head pillowed on his own arm.

As he sat up he found he did not feel groggy or need a moment to orient himself as he usually did within those first few moments that followed waking, and he strangely did not feel rested or tired either. He simply...was. He was existing and that was the best he could explain it.

Only when the Spy moved to stand did Melinda move, raising herself up and arranging her coiled tail to give him a staircase-like method of getting back to the ground under them. "If you leave now you will make it back in time for your ridiculous battle."

He located his jacket (it was folded neatly and draped over a nearby loop of the tail) and slipped it on as he turned to regard her. "...I do not recall dreaming."

There was a whisper of scale on stone as she shrank back into that familiar human form. "It's common for people not to, but since I took what you dreamed you wouldn't have remembered it anyway."

With an amused snort he moved toward the cavern's entrance. "I hope it was a pleasant one."

"Oh yes, it was," came her quiet response. "You'll regret giving it up later, I imagine."

"I doubt that."

"You really should get into the habit of thinking on what you're doing. Safe battles, little seeker."

\------------------------------------------

"You say it is common for people to not recall dreams."

Melinda was outside her cavern home, basking in the fading orange light of the sunset on top of a rocky outcrop that was downstream from the cave; she turned her head just enough to see him from the corner of her eye. "You think I'm lying about that?"

"No, but is such a thing common because of human nature or because of something else?"

Nimbly she swung her legs off the rock and sat upright, patting the space beside her as she scooted over to provide space. After a pause the Spy found himself moving over to join her, switching his cigarette to his left hand to keep the small curl of smoke rising from its end from wafting directly into her face.

"A little of column A, little of column B. How did your curse work out today?"

"As you promised," he said simply. After some thought on his walk back to base Spy had decided to take an active role in who would be the recipient of the curse and had more or less run directly at the Blu team's Medic and Heavy - the two of them working close together, as expected - and it would seem the giant Russian man was the victim of the curse. With the Heavy unable to see the Spy the Frenchman had made quick work of first his Medic, then the giant. "Are you avoiding answering my question in a straightforward manner because I have not paid for it?"

She shrugged. "Honestly, if you were doing this for any other reason than selfishness I'd be more forthcoming. As it stands, if you're going to be obsessed with self preservation then I see no reason why I shouldn't respond in kind."

"...another question, then, if you are willing."

"Feel free to ask, it doesn't mean I'll answer."

"Dreams and rebirth - what is the connection?"

A long silence stretched between them and as he was about to take that as a sign she wasn't going to answer she drew up a leg and braced her foot against the rock beneath her, resting her chin on her own knee.

"Every night, when you go to sleep? You die. The 'you' that's persisted throughout the day stops existing. It's a death, an end, and what you would call a soul separates from the body and enters the realm of dreams where it explores, learns, and grows...then, when it's reached the end of its dream-life, it returns to the physical body with everything it's learned. You might not consciously remember what you dreamed - what you learned - but subconsciously it's all there. That's where what humans call deja vu comes from." She paused and then glanced over to him. "You think you've seen it before because you have, you saw it - you LIVED it - in your dreams. Every day is a rebirth of the spirit...that is your connection. You will live so many lifetimes before you're unable to return to your physical body - what you mortals call "death" but what I call a severing."

That...rang with a bizarre sort of truth, he supposed. "If that is something all humans do then I fail to see a benefit to joining your flock. I will dream regardless, yes?"

"You will," she murmured, a small smile creeping across her face. "But whether you come back to the world in a physical body once you've been severed..."

Brow furrowing he shifted on the rock to stare at her, cigarette all but forgotten and the ash dropping freely to his pantleg. "If severance is death..."

The unspoken word of 'immortality' echoed through his mind but she abruptly stood and began to slog up the creek toward the cavern before he could inquire further. 

"You'll piece it all together if you actually start thinking...you'll piece together a lot of things if you'd just think about it - it'd save you a lot of grief and pain, I can tell you that much."

Melinda was several yards away before it occurred to him that he should follow; the Spy brushed the ashes from his pants and stubbed the cigarette out against the rock beneath him before standing and hurrying after her. As before Melinda changed forms and directed the Frenchman to stretch out across her before settling in to watch.

Spy's last conscious thought before sleep swallowed him was...well, if immortality was a perk of worshiping a long-forgotten god, maybe he was treading the correct path after all.

Strangely enough when he woke the following morning he felt a burning curiosity about what exactly she was seeing; he again simply came to as quickly as he'd fallen asleep without any recollection of having dreamed and the first thing on his mind was what she was gaining from his dreams. He could recall her battery explanation but that dealt with her continued existence...no, what he was wondering was...

If one learned and grew within a dream realm, was she learning from him? What COULD she learn from him? Melinda wasn't human and while Spy had no frame of reference for how old she was he believed the phrase 'older than dirt' would not be amiss here - what on earth could there be for her to learn? 

And if she were taking his dreams from him didn't that mean she was actively preventing him from benefiting from whatever lessons and growth he would have otherwise experienced?

She had ushered him from the cavern before he could properly sort out how to phrase his questions and as a result he spent the entire day distracted and mulling it over (he wasn't even paying close enough attention to figure out which of the Blu team the curse attached itself to this time).

That night when he managed to slip away through the fence and make his way to the cavern he didn't even attempt to ask permission to question her.

"What are you taking from me?"

"...what are you willing to give up to find out?"


End file.
